


For The Greater Good

by Schweet



Category: Original Work
Genre: Friendship/Love, Original Fiction, Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:00:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24677317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schweet/pseuds/Schweet





	For The Greater Good

“I yell into the void so that one day it may whisper back,” Evie turned over the last page of her completed manuscript and glanced up at Cara. Her eyes were glistening with tears she refused to let overflow, mirrored by her best friend.

Cara knew the years of agony and pain that had gone into those poems, into the written words that were the only way her dear friend could truly express the depth of her thoughts and often overpowering emotions.

Cara whispered into her hand, “My God Evie, that’s- that’s so…” Cara was unable to finish her sentence, her brain still reeling from the truths that Evie had just revealed to her.

Evie softly flipped the stack of pages over, and ran a gentle hand across the title, so much pain, and yet fierce pride, contained in that simple gesture.

“Do they know?”

“Of course not,” Evie didn’t even bother to shake her head in response, “I’ve known them longest second only to you. God, Cara, think about it. How would you feel if I suddenly told you I loved you, and had for fifteen years?”

Cara smiled smoothly at her soul sister, “I would be so fucking honoured-”

“But what if they’re not?”

“I would take you on all the best dates and always hold your hand in public-”

“But you’re not them! What if the thought of even touching me disgusts them, what if they never want to see me, or even think of me, again once I tell them?” Evie’s hand tightened into a fist on her lap underneath the table, pressing her sharp nails into the pale flesh of her soft palm.

“Hey, Evie, give me your hand,” Cara shifted in her seat, leaning closer.

Evie glanced down at her shoes but gave both her hands over to Cara anyways, who took them within her own and squeezed tight. “You know you’ll make yourself bleed if you keep doing that, Evie.”

Evie didn’t look up, just nodded in automatic response at the tone of Cara’s voice. Cara sighed, knowing Evie was retreating into memories that would do her no good. She prepared herself, knowing what she would have to do to pull her out of that downwards spiral. But she had no need, for right at that moment an eighteen wheeler sped by the kitchen window, careening down the narrow country road outside Evie’s house.

Evie blinked, her eyes clearing, “Man’s gonna kill himself driving like that down these old town roads.”

Cara snorted at her choice of words, shaking her head she pulled her up from the rickety, pale blue bistro table and walked her down the hall to the bathroom, “Splash some water on your face and then put some shoes on, today is a beautiful day and you’re not going to waste it inside pining for someone who may or may not, but probaly WILL, love you back,” she contiuned over Evie’s weak protests, voice growing louder ‘till she was practiaclly shouting, “and we are going to take a hike to that little waterfall I know you kissed Jonny under in the fifth grade, and we are going to skinny- fucking- dip in the lake afterwards and you are going to enjoy yourself or God help me I will stand on your shoulders and force you to swim the butterfly in front of that cute lifegaurd at the pool next Saturday!”

By the time Evie was pushed into the bathroom, door slammed behind her, she most definitely needed to splash some cold water on her face.

Beyond the creaky bathroom door, even though Cara had oiled those hinges just last week, Cara glanced back towards the kitchen, or more specifically, the thick stack of papers laying on top of the kitchen table.

Without a look back towards her best friend she scampered back down the long hall, multiple framed pictures of Cara and Evie smiling, both as young children and as adults, hung delicately upon the pale yellow walls, all of which Cara refused to look at. She crossed the threshold of the kitchen, grabbed her shoulder bag off of the hook beside the fridge, and hurried to the table the pair had just vacacted. Cara stood in front of the wobbly table, unable to tear her gaze away from the paperclipped poems, the off white of the cheap computer paper they were printed on almost blending in with the sun bleached paint of the old table beneath them. Almost, if she squinted.

The sound of running water ceased and Cara grabbed the papers and shoved them into her bag, if Evie wouldn’t do it for herself then Cara would do it for her, just like she had back in fourth grade with Jonny. She slung her bag over a shoulder and hurried down the hall to meet Evie as she exited the bathroom.

“Come on Evie!”, she dragged her towards the front door, away from where she had left the poems, “It’ll be dark before we get there at this rate!”

“I should put my poems away,” Evie turned half- heartedly towards the kitchen but Cara grabbed her by the shoulders, preventing her from turning around and seeing the empty space on the table.

“They’ll be fine, it’s not like someone’s going to steal them or something, right?” Cara forced out a laugh, and Evie smiled in response.

“Alright, alright, you got me there.”

Evie and Cara slipped on their shoes and headed for the rusted pickup waiting for them out on the gravel driveway, the poems safely stored in between a small laptop and a folder containing Cara’s thesis.


End file.
